


Look After You.

by xx1onedirection1xx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drugs, F/M, M/M, Nerd!Harry, Punk!Louis, Self Harm, Selfharm!Harry, marcel - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xx1onedirection1xx/pseuds/xx1onedirection1xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles didn't know what was happening.<br/>Louis Tomlinson did.<br/>(Larry Stylinson self-harm!fic, mixed with punk!louis/ nerd!harry fic.)</p><p>(Everything in this story is fictional. Except the names of the people, all else such as their relations with eachother and how they act are not proven. The feelings, however, are real. That's why I wrote this, anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

-1-

He didn't know what was happening, or why it was, but it was. So he had to deal with it. Just like he had to deal with the 1fact that he was allergic to both cats and dogs, had to wear these stupid thick glasses, had a pale complexion and several pimples covering it, and couldn't digest dairy very well.

And he was recently dumped, by the tall and lanky honor student named "Barb". Honestly, though, what kind of name was Barb, anyway? Sounds like a name for an over-attached great aunt who has nothing better to do than back you oatmeal cookies and pair it with chocolate milk (though, she always forgot he was allergic to almost all dairy products). But, in actuality, Harry really did have a great aunt Barb who was over-attached and never remembered that he was Lactose Intolerant.

Nevertheless, she broke up with him, even though he was the one to become her friend, anyway. He was the one to date her, to make her feel okay, to make her feel not alone. Then she got friends and her braces off and she lost about 40 pounds and gained a new big ego, and suddenly she was the "it" girl at their school.

They had been dating for six months.

And Harry didn't know how to feel about that, because he really did love her, and he thought she felt the same. Well, she might have, but needless to say she still dumped him anyway. And he decided he felt hurt by that, like come on how much had he given up for her? And she couldn't bear to even be seen with him once she got better than him? And who said she was better than him?

But, actually who needed to, it was just a given fact. Everyone was better than Harry Styles, and it will always be that way. He didn't need anyone to tell him that, he even preferred for nobody to tell him that. Because he would hurt more, therefore he would be doing more of what he's doing now. Before he knew it, he was dropping the lighter, a singeing pain racing through his hip.

But, as he always did before, he bent down and picked it up, his hands shaking as his nerves were alive. The new blister was reacting with his jeans, creating an itch, but a good one.

Just so wondrous and it helped Harry feel.

Just feel things, like life in general.

It made him feel and he was happy about that.

Quite happy, actually, so that's why this has become a daily routine. On bad days, it could be more, and on good days (ha), it could be none at all (ha). But now he was feeling, as he just created it a moment ago, and suddenly the trees were much more vibrant and the grass much more green. The air was much cleaner, fresher, like a crisp Autumn day.

Good thing it was Autumn, and to most it was already crisp. But Harry just needed this little boost to see that. 

So, he headed back down the trail he was walking along, and back down the road and highway, and all the way home. The house was the same as before. The feeling must have already worn off. But before he was able to get it out again, his mother opened the door, pulling him in. "Honey, its freezing out there! What were you thinking?" Harry just stared at the ground.

"I wasn't."

She sighed quickly, but very heavy, and scurried back into the kitchen. "Well, start thinking then. Might do you some good."

Harry decided to make her feel better, saying, "Yeah, it probably would. Thanks anyway, mum." He could feel her smile from across the room, two rooms away. He could feel that, but that faded away quickly, too. Just like everything else. His heart started pumping really fast and his hip was aching. He needed to get up to his room, and fast. So he said, racing up the stairs, "Gotta go do meh' homework, call me down when supper's readeh''."

She didn't reply but he knew she heard him, so he closed the door after him right as he headed through into his room (he felt like he was dying; and he didn't know whether he liked that or not). He landed on his bed, his body making hard contact, but was deflected from most of it because of the spring support. Again, he felt nothing.

He started banging his fist on his thigh, trying to create a bruise, a flash of pain. Nothing.

His legs were probably already banged up too much to even feel something like that anymore (one of the reasons he didn't wear shorts often, or at all). He was desperate, desperate for something. This must be an all-time record, he thought as he pulled out the lighter again.

He glanced at the clock. It had only been ten minutes. Still, he got to work.

His mother called him back down a little while later. He actually, by then, was working on his homework, already done with biology and now onto history. He just had Maths left after this, but he'd rather wait to do that. He was in an Honors math class.

So was Barb.

Too many memories.

So he saved it for later (or never). But, of course, he would do it at some time, because if he didn't, he knew he'd have a panic attack. He'd worry too much, and he'd probably vomit. Then, that would turn into missing a day of school, which he also didn't want to do for the fact that he had a perfect record his whole life. He didn't want anything to be messed up, and he'd feel even worse if he was the one to mess it all up. He just couldn't deal with that, that he did something to himself that affected him in the long run and not just for the time-being.

He didn't want to ruin his life, he didn't want that, he just needed a stress-reliever for a temporary amount of time. It'd been about three months right about now. Right when Barb had gotten her braces off, right when he developed a huge blemish on his left cheek, right when he got a cavity, right when he had a run-in with trouble at school (well, it was trouble to him, but just a pathetic excuse to self-abuse to anyone else).

It all started three months ago, and he realized he's felt more dependent on himself since this all started, but he kinda liked it. Actually he really liked it, he liked that only he could hurt himself now, not his mum or dad or sister or Barb or anyone. Just him, and only him, just Harry Edward Styles.

And he knew this probably wasn't going to be temporary, then.

But, for right now, he only worried about how his stomach was growling and how his legs were carrying him downstairs to the dining room. Dinner was the same as it always was; Gemma was still being goth, his mother worried about her, his mother worried about his grades (even though they still were all straight A-Pluses), and his dad was late because of "work".

Harry had discovered by now that he wasn't coming back from work.

Unless work made you smell like a cigarette and make you all sweaty and gave you hickeys on your collar bone.

Then, yeah, maybe then he was coming back from work. But, like always, his mother was oblivious to it, she only worried about her kids and never the man she married. It’s not like she ignored him, she just really cared about her kids and how they were and every other little unimportant living aspect of their lives. Their daily lives.

Like what they had for lunch and what time they made it for eighth period and what kind of music Gemma listened to and her friends and how they were feeling. Gemma would always roll her eyes and give some kind of witty comeback, and he could always see his mother flinch at it and he could see her heart almost collapse in her chest, but then she'd just move on to him and how he was.

He would tell her everything (well, not, like, everything, umm) and smile and make her feel better and she would smile back. And his sister would leave dinner about half-way through with a barely empty plate and his father always sighed and noticed it but his mother never did. Only his father would notice how she barely ate and how her clothes seemed baggier on her and how she had bags under her eyes.

But, luckily, his father never noticed what was etched out across his body, Harry hid it too well.

His scars were always out of sight, and only to be seen by him whenever he needed a little pick-me-up. And he kinda needed a little pick-me-up right now. So, he got up carefully, saying, "Sorry mum, gotta go finish my Maths.."

She nodded, grinning a little, but he could see the wrinkles setting into her (used-to-be) smooth and flawless skin.

But, either way, she nodded, so he hurried up into his room. He could hear from his sister's room next door that she was blasting music, and he could hear the lyrics. He frowned at them. Still, he locked up his door, finished his homework, then, about a half hour later, decided to make himself happy again, even for just a little while.


	2. Chapter 2

 

\--*2*--

 

His mouth filled with water. It tasted gross, and tasted like it always tasted. But it was just grungy this time. And he realized the person before him didn't flush (and he knew the person head-dunking him into it obviously meant for it to be that way).

He was gagging, as he always did, and he heard muffled laughing through the waters.

And he heard "Time for a Swirlie!" He tried thrashing around, but nothing helped. They still flushed the toilet, they still cracked up, and he still felt horrible.

But, as they always did, they eventually let go and headed their own ways, calling him different names on their way out. He balled up into the fetal position, sobbing, shivering. His body couldn't stop shaking, and he started choking up the water he just swallowed.

And he remembered what the water was, and he knew what was coming. He made sure to be leaning over the toilet as he vomited up his breakfast, and anything else in his body as well. Well, not blood, but enough for him to feel better, and enough for him to be clear of the urine.

He couldn't get the laughter out of his head, and he knew, that one of the people laughing was Barb.

It always was.

He needed to save his dignity, or what little was left of it, so he resumed getting up and wiping his face off, ignoring how he was still crying. He walked out of the stall, turning on the sink, and slapped his face with some cold water. Then he patted it dry, trying to wake him up a bit from the last experience, but he couldn't. And he knew what he had to do.

So he did what he had to do, right then, right there by the sinks, and he felt that familiar itch by his left hip.

-*-

 

"Hey, where have you been? You were gone, like, a whole period!" Niall hissed at him during their activity period.

Harry had just came back from the restroom, eyes red and his body burning (well, just some of it), and said he was at the Nurse to the teacher. But she just smiled and waved it off, since it was Mrs. Greenward. She was their honors teacher, and was his teacher for most of his classes, so she was very understanding and liked him a substantial amount. He then had walked over and took a seat by Niall, ignoring his glare, and got to work on his homework from that day.

Niall was his best friend, a lad with acne and oily pale skin, and hair he always gelled back. He had thick frames, thicker and boxier than Harry's, and he was a bit cross-eyed as well. Still, he never got bullied as much as Harry did. Of course, Harry backtracked, he didn't want Niall to get bullied. He was just kinda curious as to why he wasn't. It may, Harry thought, be because Niall's brother, Greg, was on the football team and a leading position, too. He was a senior and had brown eyes to die for.

That's most likely why Niall doesn't get teased, everyone is afraid to. If only Harry had an older brother like that, and not a mute older sister, then maybe he'd not need to burn. But he doesn't, so he has to burn, and that's that.

"Harry," Niall added, making him flash back to reality. Harry looked over, biting his lip and shrugging lightly, whispering, "Just felt sick, is all," But, as usual, Niall saw through that white lie, or at least he thought he did (he rarely did). They both turned back to do their own work, and without looking, Niall tilted his head towards him and muttered, "If you need any help, with Barb, I mean, its fine. I can tell someone."

Harry shook his head, probably a little too fast and panic-looking for his preferred liking, but it was enough to signal to Niall that he didn't need that. He didn't want that, he didn't want Barb to get in trouble. He didn't want to get in trouble. Niall tried to talk back, but then the bell rang. Niall just sat there for a little longer, as Harry got up and started shuffling to get his stuff put together, and sent the poor, heartbroken brunette boy a not-needed pity look.

 

-*-

 

He went home and heard someone yelling. Well, not like yelling, but hissed enough for him to know someone was mad. He was hesitant to walk into the house, as he had just opened the door, but it was his house and he had every right to. So he walked in, and heard it coming from his sister's room.

He didn't want to listen in on them, but he did want to know what was going on. So he went over and sat on the top of the steps, and did his best to zone in on it.

He still couldn't hear.

It wasn't really his business, he decided, and if someone wanted to let him know what was happening then they would.

So, he did as he was going to do before, and walked down the hallway and into his room. He shut the door behind him.

But, as he was passing her room, he did hear two words: "your grade".

She must be failing again.

 

-*-

 

Dinner was quiet. Nobody really spoke, and his father walked in about halfway through. His mother didn't comment on it. She didn't comment that he was later than usual, later than he usually was, and that he seemed out of breath. She only focused down on her food, pretending that she wasn't talking because she was so interested in it. Then he looked over to Gemma. She was looking down at her food too, but was just kinda pushing it around, back and forth on her plate.

Then, his mother spoke, making him jump a little, "Harry, I was wondering if you could help Gemma with her classes. I mean, she needs some tutoring and all." She tried to sound nonchalant, but he could tell she was stressing about it.

She added, "Also, her friend needs some help, too.. and.."

And she was done, even though she made it sound like she was going to say more. And he knew that she stopped, because if she did say more, she'd probably cry. And that would anger Gemma, and she'd run upstairs after saying something hurtful, and his father would declare that he was going to take a shower, and Harry would have to comfort her.

But, she didn't say anymore, and Harry didn't want her to be sad, so he said in a low voice, "Yeah, uhh, sure. I guess. Umm. But, who.. who's the friend?" He just really didn't want it to be someone who hated him, or dunked him into the toilets weekly. He didn't want one of those people. But, it probably wasn't, because Gemma wasn't in that clique. She was in the sad, vintage-lovers and cigarette smoker cliques. Still, he wanted to make sure.

Gemma mumbled, surprising them all that she even was listening, "He's just a friend of mine, okay?"

Why didn't she want him to know who it was? What would be wrong with that? And, he was going to argue with something like 'I have to use my time and help you two, shouldn’t I even be able to know who it is?' but he didn't want her to march off, he didn't want his father to go shower, and surely didn't want his mother to cry.

So he didn't argue with that, or with anything. He just kept quiet and said that yes, yes he would tutor them. And he saw some weight being lifted off his mother's shoulders, and that made it all worth it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

\--*3*--

 

So it was Friday, and the first thing Niall said to him was, "Have you seen Barb today? She looks, like, ridiculous.." And Harry didn't know how to respond, because just as he was going to she walked by. Her hair was bright pink. All of it, every root. But she pulled it off, and he knew that Niall was just saying that she looked 'ridiculous' to make him feel better.

Barb pulled it off, she was always able to pull off whatever look she had. He felt a bit pissed of that, that she was able to, and was pissed at how pissed he was getting.

The hair was all pink, and it was so exuberant but matched well with her olive skin. Her smooth, olive skin, that just shined in any light but not too much, and her pale pink lips that used to be chapped but now so heavenly-looking, and just-

Fuck.

Just fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He didn't even know that Niall was still talking, and about the same thing, too. Niall had a scold etched on his face, whilst pushing his glasses up more, and was saying something like, "What is she, a power ranger? Some kind of pink smurf, or something that stupid? She just looks-"

"Incredible." Harry cut in, still watching her float down the halls, flicking her newly-colored hair over her shoulder. He snapped out of it, looking to Niall who had raised eyebrows, and added, "Now, can we just drop it, please?" Niall did drop it, but he also sent a glare at her back as they walked on to period 1.

Niall was her friend. They all used to be friends, their own little triangle of friends. Of course, they were friends with others that were like themselves, but in reality those three were always the closest. They'd host Friday Night Pokemon Marathons at each others' houses, eating only popcorn and drinking Coca-Cola. Of course, later to the end of their overall friendship/relationship triangle, she asked for Diet Coca-Cola, and didn't really fit as snug in her pajamas as before. Her arms were less plump, and she had a newly found tan.

Before they went to sleep, towards the end of it all and the beginning of his self-loathing, she'd always go into the bathroom and put on acne cream. Lots of it, and use different face scrubs and lotions. And she wore perfume, and took showers. Well, more of them, at least. She also got a cell phone and texted people. She had a phone, she owned technology. Meanwhile, months before and even a couple years, she always hated that kind of stuff, stating that it was ruining the environment and those brains who used one. Yet, she did get one too, and consumed only diet stuff and put on acne cream. But it was when she started wearing makeup, and wearing a push-up bra (or even a regular one) and stood them up most Friday's to go to the mall, that he knew she was changing, and not for the better. And now the hair? It was just going too far.

Just too far for his liking, but it wasn't really his choice of what she did, now was it?

But still, he couldn't help feel horrible all of period 1. Because he was still thinking about her. Fuck (it surprised him how much he was swearing about this; he usually never swears. But, as always and always before, she brought things out of him that he didn't even know were there).

 

-*-

 

When he got home, he was quite exhausted. He had to deal with Niall the whole day, and deal with his meaningless comments that were meant to comfort him but did nothing more than annoy him to any belief. Also, he didn't get much sleep the night before, and he had to get up early this morning to finish some of his Maths that he fell asleep doing the night before. And Barb had pink hair. Nevertheless, he didn't want to deal with anything.

But when he walked through the door, he remembered something. He had to tutor them today.

But when he walked into the living room, and shut the door behind him, only Gemma was sitting there.

She was watching TV, but when he let his bag drop to the floor and made a soft thud, she looked over. She narrowed her eyes, and turned down the volume down a bit. "Sit down." She instructed. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to tell her that she couldn’t boss him around, not anymore at least, but then again, he couldn't. He considered the 2 known facts: 1; He didn't want her to boss him around (normal sibling struggle). 2; He was afraid of her (not sure if that one was normal, especially at their maturity and little age difference. But then again, she was Gemma, so it all made sense. Anyone that knew her would agree).

In the end, he sat down in the seat beside her.

She breathed out a tight, controlled breath. "Now, I don't want to boss you around," She started. He liked where this was going. She still was looking at him, but her eyes a little less focused. Still, she continued, "But when he arrives, don't overreact. You're known to do that."

And he was. At most of the family reunions, when the unknown relatives would mention on how much he's grown, he'd usually say that he really hasn't and that they said the same thing last year. Gemma usually only gives them a strict, dry smile. At Christmas, when Harry was younger, and he got a robot when he wanted something like a teddy bear, he'd complain. He'd throw it down and make a big fit, then go up and snuggled under the covers, like a cocoon. Eventually, his mother would come up and talk him into going back down and drinking some honey lemon tea, and he would. Still, he was known to overreact over, well, pretty much over all of life (and even that statement was an overreaction).

Still, he nodded, and she added, "Just, please don't say you're tutoring him or anything, okay? He doesn't really, like, want people to know, okay?" Her voice was softer than before, and he knew she really meant that. She really cared about how this person felt. And, on the behalf that she actually cared about something, he said, "Okay, Gem. That's fine, I won't."

She pressed her lips together, still quite skeptical when she replied reluctantly, "Promise?"

He smiled. "Promise."

And then, she remembered something and said, eyes squinting again, "Good. And don't call me Gem again. Like, ever again. Got it?"

He was still smiling, just to bother her. "Got it."

Then the door bell rang. It was time.

And well, when she got up and went to greet him, Harry was not expecting that. Him. Harry was not expecting him.

And he knew he wouldn't say anything to anyone that. Louis Tomlinson was being tutored, probably because he didn't know if he could ever speak again (or, in that matter, let air enter his lungs).

And it felt like a bullet was hot in his chest when Louis noticed him, and snarled with, "This is your brother?"

The snarl, Louis Tomlinson’s snarl. That was what he was known for. Snarling, and hating everything. He snarled at the etchers, the staff, the lunch ladies, his family, and even his friends. That was his thing, that was what he always did. That was who he was. He just hated life and everything in it.

When he snapped back out of his thoughts, he saw Gemma soften up a lot more and she was tugging at her sweater sleeves unknowingly. She whispered back with, a smile stuck on her face as she watched him, "Yeah, yeah it is.."

Then Louis laughed, a cold, bitter laugh. he was amused by this. Somehow he thought it was funny how they were related, but more specifically that he, Harry Styles, was her brother. He continued staring at Harry, the weak boy with big glasses. "I thought you were kidding when you told me that." He added, eyebrows raised a little from doubt. He still had a smile that moved to only the right corner of his mouth, making little lines appear around his lips. Harry didn't know what to do.

So, he shot up out of his seat, which took them all ny a bit of surprise, and he quickly stuttered, "Uhh let's go to work um o-okay."

And Gemma nodded. And Louis just scowled.

So they moved into the dining room, and Gemma sat next to Louis, who was across from Harry.

Harry kept fiddling with his fingers. He had to tutor the Louis Tomlinson. He didn't know if he even remembered anything anymore.

But he snapped out of Louis' gaze when Gemma said, "Hey, you gon' open the book soon, or?"

He shot a look at her, then nodded. She said to not overreact when he arrived, so he was going to try not to.

"Okay then, open your Math books to page 1. And let's get you started with your Radical expressions and exponents."

 

-*-

 

It was later when Gemma said she had to use the bathroom. So she got up, sent Harry a long, intimidating glance, and walked off.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to look everywhere but Louis' eyes (which were watching him closely, the ice blue existing brightly in them. Like a cool, winter day, where the ice wasn't quite frozen solid but it wasn't really water either. Like a pool, but more white than that, like if the s-)

"Are you gonna help me, schoolboy?" Louis teased, scoffing a little in the process.

Harry knew he should, but he didn't know if he could.

Then Louis noticed this, this muteness, so he added, "God, do you even talk?"

Harry opened his mouth. then closed it abruptly. He tried once more, opening it, but then just licked his lips and closed them once again. Louis then laughed. He just laughed, laughed at how pathetic Harry was. The boy couldn't even talk to him! He was too scared! How funny was that.

And Louis made sure that Harry knew this. Whilst in a midst of hysterically laughing, he amused with, "God, you're mute! You can't even talk to me without Gemma here! Hell, you can't even talk to me when she is here. You're just so-"

"Okay, I'm back." Gemma said, sitting down again. Louis had stopped laughing but he still was smiling. A smile that only Harry knew meant "you're such a dork". He knew that because Barb used to send him that smile every day, when everything was coming to an end.

And since she was back, he just looked down at his book and said, "Uhh, so, how do you use the 'sum of cubes' factoring formula to rationalize a denominator containing a sum with a cube root? Gemma, do you know?"

Then Louis was silently laughing again. Harry just ignored it.

And Gemma nodded, 'uhh'-ing for a moment, then said with reluctance, "Multiply numerator and denominator by a radical that will get rid of the radical in the denominator. Right?"

Harry nodded. "What else?"

She shrugged. "i don't know.."

Harry sighed. Louis was picking at his fingernails. Harry had enough of this. "Well, we'll just finish this and be done for today, okay? Its been, like, an hour already."

"Okay" is what Gemma said. "Thank the goddamn Jesus" is what Louis said.

 

-*-

 

So they finished up after they learned the other steps of how to rationalize the denominator. Once they finished, Gemma said she was going to go up and text somebody, and she left her phone upstairs in her room, so she went up there. That left Harry and Louis there. Harry was closing up his book, and putting it in his bag, and Louis was just standing there, leaving against the wall. His arms were crossed lightly, and he was just watching Harry hustle around. He could tell Harry was fidgeting, and was nervous, and Harry could tell that Louis was having fun just watching him.

Once h set his bag down though, and everything was packed up, Louis pushed himself off the walls with his shoulder blades. He scuffed over to Harry and winked, saying, "Thanks for helping me, bigboy. Maybe you can teach me somethin' else too, hmm?"

He was so close to Harry's face, and his eyes were squinting, and Harry could smell the cologne he was wearing. Weirdly, he breathed it in, and Louis noticed. He only leaned in closer, and whispered in Harry's ear, "Maybe you'll come to my place and help me, right?"

And Harry still stood there when Louis backed up and said his goodbyes to him and yelled up to his sister. He stood there when he heard the door shut, and when the car lights flashed away and were going down the street.

He stood there until his mother came in, home from work, and said, "Hey, why don't we just get take-out tonight? That sound okay?"

Harry just started speedwalknig. He hurried into a full sprint up the stairs, ignoring her, and went into Gemma's room.

"I don't like him." He blandly stated.

She took out her headphones, saying, "Hmm? What?"

He let his shoulders drop. "Nothing, I.. I said nothing."

She sent him a weird look until he backed up, still facing her, and swiveled out of the room.

He ran into his and shut the door behind him.

He sat on his bed, and grabbed at his hair.

He didn't like Louis Tomlinson, seldom did, and he just didn't want to be near him. He didn't want to deal with the tattoos, the laughing, the snarling, the foul language, the teasing. He didn't want to deal with it.

He didn't know what was going to happen, but he had a feeling that he wouldn't care for it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Styles didn't know what was happening.  
> Louis Tomlinson did.
> 
> (Larry Stylinson self-harm!fic, mixed with punk!louis/ nerd!harry fic.)
> 
> (Everything in this story is fictional. Except the names of the people, all else such as their relations with eachother and how they act are not proven. The feelings, however, are real. That's why I wrote this, anyway.)

 

 

-4-

 

When Saturday rolled along, Harry was walking along the trail. It was a hectic morning, and he just needed some fresh air. So, he left, then decided to call Nick. Nick was a friend of his in his honors classes, and a head leader of the photography club (which Harry wasn't in). Nick was different from him, Nick liked to be in the middle of the action and drama of high school. Harry liked to shy away from it as much as he could (and hide himself in his Algebra book).

But, Nick accepted him the way he was, so they were friends. No matter that Nick were eye liner or not.

He said he'd arrive in about ten minutes, and Harry said 'okay'. And they both hung up and that was a little while ago.

As he continued down the path, though, he took in the sights and smells. It was turning into autumn, and you could tell by the trees that were lining the dirt path because their leaves were bright orange and red. But it was also late enough in the season for there to be crunching ones below their feet, the dead ones that already had fallen off.

And Harry just loved it all. The river to the right of him was in full swing, the water pushing past itself and creating white foam. You could see all the little fish, all different shapes and colors, swimming around underneath it. It was quuite the sight to see.

And that's what Nick said. "That's quite the sight, you know." Harry jumped up a little. He whimpered in shock. Then Nick laughed, mumbling, "Wow, what are you, a puppy?" He was now right beside him, both stopped and looking at the waters. Harry shoved him a little, saying, "Hey, you're the one that walked up to me." Nick shrugged. The sunlight shined through the trees, and onto his face. It lightened up his brown eyes a bit (Nick's, not Harry's, his were actually quite green and Nick liked to comment on them a lot). "It had been ten minutes, so." he looked over to Harry. Then Harry noticed something, "No eye liner, hmm?" He rolled his eyes in response, grumbling, "You kinda just called out of the blue, ya' know. I was still sleeping.' Harry glanced down at his watch. "Still sleeping? At noon?' Nick grinned cheekily. "it was a crazy night last night, at Louis' party and everything."

The younger boy's green eyes widened, stuttering out with, "Wait, he had a party? Wait. Wait, you're friends with him?" Nick held his hands up, telling him, "Woah, boy, calm down, and yeah, he did. And no, we're not friends. Just I'm on a list of people he invites and stuff. He invites a lot of people though, what you've never been to one of his?"

Harry took a sudden interest in his hands. "Nah, nah I haven't." Nick took a moment, then said, "Wait, why'd you ask if he had a party last night? Why, like, wouldn't he?"

Harry took in a breath, and was about to tell him, but he shut it almost as fast as it opened. Gemma said to tell no one. And he promised.

So, he made up a lame excuse, albeit he was nervous because Nick would always see through his lies, "Uh, just Gemma was home last night. I guess she didn't, uh, go?" Nick furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "She was home last night? She was there.."

Then again, Harry did remember the back door opening and shutting a little past midnight. It all makes sense now. He 'uhh'ed and said, changing the subject, "Sorry I called you out here, had a bad start of the day." nick looked over, and asked slowly, "What happened?"

Harry sighed and said, starting to move, "Well, let's just take a walk and I'll spill it all to you then. Okay?" "Okay." Thus, they started to walk down the path and talk about how horrible his morning was and everything that happened inbetween.

 

When Nick left soon after, after hugging Harry and telling him sweet nothings to calm him down (though he wasn't really hyped up), Harry felt the silence engulf him. He knew he really was being needy at the time, that he really was acting lie a child who needed to be distracted at every moment. But he didn't know what to think of that morning, though he knew it was going to happen soon enough.

He didn't know how to feel.

So he took out the lighter. He went behind a tree. He rolled his shirt up a little, and pressed on the button. He started to feel again.

 

-*-

 

He went on a walk on the streets after his skin stopped burning so much. his shirt was lightly tapping against it with every step he took, and it kinda hurt, but a good kind of hurt. The hurt Harry was always hoping for, not like the kind of hurt he got that morning. Not that kind, no never that kind. So, he was walking down the streets, and he didn't even know where he was going exactly, but then he did. Somehow he went up and rang the doorbell, and Niall answered the door.

See, Niall was different than Nick. He didn't party, though he had some friends (all smart ones, still), but he didn't party and he didn't drink and he got up at a reasonable with no hangover in sight. He currently was wearing a shirt that was tucked into his brown corduroy pants. He could tell he was also wearing knee-high socks too. That made Harry secretly cringe.

His face lit up right when he saw who it was, and he said, "Harry, mate! How are you, anything wrong?"

Harry knew something was wrong, but he didn't want to tell Niall. He kinda came here so he could not tell him, and just so he could see something that won't be changed forever. he just needed some normalcy in his life. Still, Niall was waiting for an answer, so Harry swallowed and said with the steadiest voice he could, "No, uhh no nothing's wrong." Then Niall sighed. "Y' sure, lad?" Harry added, a bit of sharpness in his voice, "Yes, Niall. Nothing is wrong." Then Harry looked up to see his shoulder's drop a little, when he huffed out, "I don't know, you didn't come over last night, I just kinda thought that maybe.." 

Friday Night Pokemon Marathon. Harry completely forgot. But he couldn't tell Niall, because of the tutoring and all and promising to keep his mouth shut about it. So he had to say something like, "No, sorry bud. I just had a fever, is all."

Niall nodded, because he couldn't see though Harry's lies, and he moved himself over so Harry could come in. "So nothing's wrong?" Niall asked once more. Harry was getting a little annoyed, but knew Niall only had a nice heart for this kind of stuff, and wasn't aware of over-obsessing about issues. Harry walked though, and Niall shut the door behind him. They walked into the living room as Harry said, "nah, I just wanted to come over and thought maybe we could do that tonight and stuff? Since I couldn't, like, last night y' know." Niall nodded excitedly and Harry sat on the couch. The blonde mate went over and bent down over a basket, saying, "Now, which season do you think we left off with?"

Harry couldn't help but smile wildly right then. He was extremely grateful for Niall's obliviousness to his untruthful excuses.


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

 

-5-

 

He ended up sleeping over that night. He didn't even call his mum to tell her. It just kinda happened, because after they finished every episode of the next season where they had left off before, they were kinda exhausted from, as some would say, "fangirling" over it all. Niall's favorite, of course, was Oshawott, and Harry's was Sauk. They ended up falling asleep at the end of the last episode, and were sleeping straight through till the afternoon of the next day. That was unlike them, but then again they were watching Pokemon the night before, so then again it kinda did.

When he checked his phone during their eating of chocolate-chip pancakes, he saw 20 missed calls from his mother. He decided it was time to go.

"Niall, I'm gonna head out." He said, after Niall had devoured his whole meal, only leaving the empty plate behind for evidence. Niall looked up from downing his apple juice, saying with a still-full mouth, "Why?" Harry sighed, getting up and pushed his kitchen stool back in. The cushion on it was a deep red and very padded, like the couch. Everything in his house seemed to match, and correspond perfectly with eachother. Meanwhile, his house was, well... That would be discussed at a later time.

Still, Harry tried to avoid eye contact when he said, going over and slipping his old and ratty-looking sneakers back on, "Yeah, well I haven't spoken to my mum in a day or so. Thought I should go home and reassure her that I haven't been, like, killed or anything."

He could hear Niall laugh at that, as he was still in the other room and Harry was now at the front door. Niall replied, and he could clearly hear him through the almost-completely silent home, "See ya' then."

Harry opened and closed the crimson door behind him.

 

-*-

So he went home and threw the front door and everything was shaken through. The house looked as if it’d been thrown upside down, then rolled down a hill. The lamps were all broken, and the TV had a big crack in it. But when he went into the kitchen, after covering his mouth from getting emotional, it seemed as if everything was okay.

His mother, who had her back turned to him and was facing the stove, was cooking some sort of lunch. And he was about to speak, when he saw her shoulders shaking, and suddenly she was gripping the counter-edges, and was heaving really bad.

And he got worried, so worried, and he didn’t know what to do. His mother was having a breakdown right in front of his every own eyes.

But he’s an idiot, you know?

So he just swiveled around and ran up to his room.

And locked the door.

And sat on his bed, and ignored the blasting music form the other room, and ignored how it abruptly was muted right when he slammed his door shut.

And everything was spinning, and he feels like he isn’t too sad or mad about this but he should. For God’s sake, his-

There was knocking.

It was from Gemma’s side.

_Knock—-knock-knock---knock-knock-knock_

It was their language. Just theirs and Harry thought she had forgotten it (or even learned it in the first place).

_Knock-knock-knock-knock—knock-knock-knock-kno-knock_

(Hell, how did Harry even remember this?)

But it was their own thing, and the fact that they both remembered it made it okay (at least for those select few seconds).

_‘Harry, we’ll be fine okay? I promise you.’_

_‘I don’t even know, Gemma. But I do hope.’_

 

-*-

 

It was that night Harry heard it. It was so obnoxious that he just couldn't not listen to it, but it does make sense. Because the person being like that was the obnoxious bastard that seemed to ruin him. But what does he do? Like does he go tell Gemma? Does Gemam hear it and like how couldn't she? Its the loudest bastard on the bloody earth.

"Harry, that's your name? Right? Whatever, you know its you, so. Well. Come on." Louis was whining loudly, like so loud china could hear him. They're most likely thinking "Jeez, that sounds like a douschebag," or whatever that is in Chinese. So.

He could just her his ears pounding and his heart surely fell to the floor, because he kind of feels like shit right now. Not to mention he's all like "shit shit shit shit oh shit on a stick" because he has to shut it up, shut him up.

He barely rolled out of bed and put shoes on and he was swearing goddammit he has to give this bad habit up. "Harry, harry in a tree, he can even count to three. Harry, harry at the store, he can even count to four. Harry, harry-"

He shoved him off the sidewalk. "Man, what was that for? Ya like it rough?" Louis groaned, rolled over, then just stayed there, like a lazy ass. This boy will kill him, Harry just knows it.

He looked at the smashed bottles all over the place. "Louis, umm, are you.. drunk?" Just laughter.

Louis' laugh is like a pixie on high. Maybe Louis is high (Harry doesn't doubt that too much; he does look like a meth addict, with those cheekbones and all. Those are killer cheekbones.) But that doesn't matter right now, because Louis is a mess, and his whole town is an eyewitness of it. He's sure his mother has woken up by this point.

"Louis, you have to get up and.. go home? Like, please go home. i don't know you quite well, so. Go?" Harry tried to sound assertive; according to Louis bawling in laughter on the ground, stomach held, he must have failed. "Oh, Harry, you know me. Everyone knows me."

Harry had to bit his tongue so he wouldn't rant with "Isn't that a little cocky of you to say, hmm?" Because he knew Louis would just say with a wink, "Cocky, hmm, is that me?"

"Come on Lou, let's go." Harry was desperate, he could not tarnish his reputation because of this little fucker. It wasn't even an option to him. "Oh, I get a nickname now? You're so sweet, Gemma was right about you." Louis pretended to cry, making Harry curl his fists tighter into themselves.

Harry tried his best to help Louis up, and shut up because he doesn't need to ask Louis what Gemma said about him because he really didn't care (or at least he was trying not to). "I'll walk you home, Louis. Come on, hold onto me."

That's when it happened. Sure, this has been happening, like the whole time, but now it really started happening.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Louis whined, full on sobbing into Harry's chest, like a little puppy that was kicked to the curb. Harry bit his lip real hard, really hard, because they were almost the same height and Louis' hair smelled like coconuts and regret.

"Lou, yeah, I feel bad, but like, come on. Tell me on the way there, yeah?"

Louis started shaking, albeit he let go of Harry, and just looked away. "Is that a yes?" Harry wanted Louis to speak. He could tell Louis was wringing his hands out of nerves, but Louis just sighed. He looked back over at Harry for a while, and they just stood there, side by side, until Louis mumbled innocently, "You've got eyes to kill for, you know that?"

Harry had to bite his lip real hard to keep from laughing or blushing or both, and just said as he started walking, "Cool. Tell me about it on the way, then."

 

 

 -*-

Harry was quite stupid. They ended up by a gay bar. "God. This is not your home." God, how could he trust a bastard who was drunk off his ass? This was so stupid of him; for being an honors student, he really has no life morals. Louis just shrugged, skipping forward, "Ehh, its alright. Might be m' new one, you never know." Then he laughed again. Harry just wanted to sleep, for god's sake.

"Louis, its not funny anymore," he started, though this wasn't really that funny before, "just let me take you home, okay?"

Louis shook his head; Harry really wanted to just strangle him right then, with all the florescent lights and mini skirts, it would just seem erotic. Harry shivered.

"Why not then?" Harry challenged him, though he should have known better (Has he said he was stupid too much? Then again, he still is learning nothing by it, so. Might as well say it some more, so he starts using his brain.)

"Let's go in!" Louis exclaimed too loud, higher than all the pumping music, but before Harry could even push his glasses more up his face, Louis was gone. And he was his grownup supervisor (which sounds so weird, Harry is 2 years younger than louis. That just makes everything worse, just thinking about it like that).

So, Harry did follow the tracks where he was sure Louis took, and headed inside with only one eyeing from the body guard (that made him uncomfortable; looks get you into this place, and how could Harry even pass-)

Then he saw it. Louis was talking to some chap with gelled black hair and a small little five-o-clock shadow (thought it was way past five, more like five a.m, but thinking about this is a lost cause, so nevermind). They were conversing with Louis putting on an apron unsteadily. The man noticed he was wasted, but didn't say anything and left with just a pat on Louis' back.

This was Louis' job; a bartender at a gay bar. This is really weird.

And Louis is drunk but working? How is that possible? Harry didn't know where to go, or what to do, but he couldn't leave Louis. Surely, one of these middle-aged men would want to take a little squeeze at this boy, more even if e's tipsy, and it wouldn't be good for Harry's conscience to just leave him here. Harry noticed a plush,leather couch in the corner, he took a seat beside a man with brown hair and innocent, but tired, eyes.

The man started speaking to him right when he noticed Harry;'s glued stare on Louis. "He's alight, y' know. Been working here for years, under the table paychecks, and stuff." Harry finally took his eyes off of Louis and looked to the man's chest; his name was Liam, ""Really?" Harry asked, but its not like he doesn't believe this guy; he just looks really genuine. "yeah," the guy started, then took a big suck from his cigarette before continuing, "Yeah. Must've been about your age when he started. I remember him when I had only been here, what, maybe four months? he walked in with tired eyes and a slump, poor guy. The boy must've have been looking for a job, or somethin', cause it was a Sunday afternoon. Quite pathetic, he looked at that time. I'd asked him when he walked in how he got in, and he just shrugged with a small smile that he told the guard that I was his cousin. I'd asked him how he knew I was even in here, and he said he was walking by and saw me with me' nametag on. Smart little bastard, just had to hire him right then, under certain circumstances. Now he's like a goddamn legend around here; people barely send a glance m' way anymore, but he deserves it."

Liam must've noticed Harry flinch when he talked about how much attention Louis gets, so he added with certainty, "Only good attention, I swear to god. He's still an innocent asshole, if you ask me. You can still see it in his sighs." Harry nodded, trying to absorb everything this "liam" just said. Louis was so... Harry was just so confused right now, it was so astonishing, because Harry's usually certain about things like this. Albeit, he gets flustered so damn easily, but nonetheless certain.

"So how do you know him?" Liam continued. Harry just said, head down and rubbing his eyes, "I don't really." When Liam didn't reply, Harry just continued, "School? I guess, I don't know. I kinda tutor him." Liam then roared with laughter. Harry just a little in his seat. "God, Louis? Tutoring? Never in a million years."

Harry smiled a tiny bit, enough that he could notice it himself, and continued to watch the "innocent asshole" hustle around. "Well, so far only once, but he sure scared the crap out of me, to be honest with you."

"Yeah, Louis has that way with people. Did ya' happen to see Zayn anywhere? Black hair, sort of has a beard but doesn't really? Kinda looks like death?"

Harry nodded his head to the exit, saying, "Left a minute ago, chatted with Louis a bit before."

Liam cursed continuously under his breath, mumbling in-between, "So stupid, my god," Then got up, sending a smile and an explanation of "Sorry, he's going somewhere stupid, I know it, so," And then he was gone. Harry felt his face, a little while after. He could just feel the bags under his eyes.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

\--*6*--

 

God. God, how could Harry. He literally woke up in his own bed.

The sun was bright and he really just wanted to rip his eyeballs out, because he let that happen. He is so weak sometimes, like its not even funny anymore. Its really ironic.

Brightness flooded in on his teal carpet in circles, just bright circles and dark circles under his eyes.

How did he even wake up here, anyway?

But he's so weak. He fell asleep on Louis-Watch.

(Louis is 2 fucking years older than Harry, remind you, but still Harry felt that responsibility over him last night.)

Louis could literally be in some old man's mansion getting harassed while tied to a post by his neck. Harry cringed inwards at the thought.

he completely started freaking out and almost got out his lighter when he realized he didn't have it. Where was it at?

But he did have his phone. He texted Nick.

"Hey, uhh. where u at?,?"

No time for grammar. He needs some help.

"w/ people at movies. why?"

"who" (seemed kind of rude, but louis could be roped up, so you know how it is)

"gemma, stan/louis cuz u know they never leave eachother's sides and like cher or whatever. why"

"thanks" is all Harry said back. Thank god.

That was really close. Too close.

 

Its Sunday and Harry went downstairs to find everything still like... that.

You know: thrown lamp, wrinkled curtains, tossed aside couch, knocked over table. The usual.

Harry was really calm today. And his mum was working, and Gem was gone.

So he decided to clean.

 

-*-

 

"Oh, god. Harry. Umm." His mum stuttered. She walked in a moment ago and her eyes glowed. Still confused, though.

"yeah." Harry was a bit out of breath. But he finished cleaning, so. That was good. "Sunday, so. Nothing to do, and. Yeah."

He was hugged so hard he was confident his insides imploded. But he'll deal with medical injuries later and feel his mum's warmth; it was nice.

 

-*-

 

"Why is my room clean? I don't like it." Gemma breathed out heavily, whining like a little girl (she was a bit, but Harry'd never dare to tell her that, not that she's so, sad for him to admit it like this, scary). Harry tensed up downstairs, as he was getting a glass of water from the fridge. he kinda regrets that room, cleaning-wise. Found too much weed and not enough laundry baskets.

"Just, umm. Cleaning day, is all." Harry whimpered back up, taking his glass with him. He bit his lip hard.

"Sorry." He said, barging into her room. That was strike 2.

She glared at him, but once she saw how frazzled he was, eyes as big as the grand canyon- he was sure of that, at least-, she softened her face a bit. "Just. Don't do it again, please? I like.. messes. So please don't."

He almost thanked her, like out loud for god's desperate sake, for saying please and not shooting him 23 times in the skull.

He went back into his room without another word. He left the weed where it was; wanted to organize it by weight of Ziploc bag, but that would've been too soon. Maybe next time, though.

 

-*-

 

It was Monday before he wanted it to be. He walked into the school with tired eyes and cold, pale hands. It was a rough night for Harry.

He hadn't burned on Saturday. So he had to make it up on Sunday.

It was like midnight and Harry had wanted to die. So he held the lighter switch down longer than usual.

Harry can almost feel the skin still blistering. His hip is getting too crowded. Both sides. Its sad, really.

"Hey, boy," He heard, and cringed, which he tried to not do but still did. Oh well.

Niall didn't see, anyway. "How's your weekend?"

Normal question, that Harry would have answered any other day, because its a standard question. But he just... couldn't.

"I have to.. you know. Pee." He's so good at lying it scares him (for some reason is mind was very sarcastic today and he couldn't stop it).

Niall nodded but Harry didn't care. He was already heading towards the restroom.

And right when he thought he was in the clear, he bumped into someone. Still smelled like coconuts, not as much regret. Still.

Harry tensed up and didn't move, just waiting for the other person to move, because it was coconuts and brown hair and eyeliner.

Harry really wanted to die. He couldn't breathe.

Harry could only look up.

Louis snarled (figures). "Fag. Move, please?"

Laughter. laughter everywhere. It was all around Harry and he ran, tripping over himself. He fell on his hip. He cried out so hard he thought he reincarnated as a little girl for a second.

"God, go," Lou's friend, Stan (Harry could recognize the tone), and Harry thinks he nudged Louis. But yeah. They all went away right then.

Harry wobbled to the bathroom, once he got the bollocks to even get up.

He got there, anyway.

 

-*-

 

He arrived during the middle of first period that day. He was sweating along his hairline and had a blotchy face and his hair was everywhere (kinda didn't bother with it today, but it was even worse after all... that happened). He didn't have this period with Niall, it was his only normal class.

"Oh, look who's here." The teacher mumbled, cause it was literally ten minutes latter to the start of class and in this school, never be late. All the teachers will be dicks about it.

"Yeah, umm. Was sick in the bathroom, vomiting. And all that. Umm." He's dead. The teacher just rolled his eyes. "New seats, today, Styles. Would've known if you'd brought yourself here when needed. Go next to Zayn."

Harry wanted to burn his eyes out. Zayn was a man with a beard and dark hair and looked like death a little bit. Just what Harry needed.

When he sat down, the teacher started again with the lecture. Zayn poked him in the side. "You Harry?" He muttered, pretending to take notes but actually just scribbling. Harry nodded. Zayn sighed. "Know Louis?" Can't he even say full sentences, o? Still, Harry tensed up and nodded only a tiny bit. "Don't take him seriously."

Harry felt like blowing up. Or crumbling inwards like if an earthquake hit the Grand Canyon. Just dust, more dust and crushed veneer. "Fell today. Hard. Laughed." Harry couldn't even form sentences to express his anger. Little bitch, Louis is. Makes Harry go all though this shit for him and this happens. Louis' a real standard cunt.

"Louis?" Zayn was confused. Apparently Louis only's mean to him. So.

"Yeah," Harry started, then said with disgust basically dripping off his tongue and landing in a big pit of flaming hot lava of anger, "Llll-oooo-uuuu-iiii-ssss."

"Something to share, gentlemen?" The teacher said. Harry dug his nails into his palms. "No, sir," Zayn smiled at him, all sweet and whatever. Harry shook his head as his answer.

"Then keep down. We're learning about the hidden volcanoes, okay? Pay attention." He pointed at both of them. Harry kept his head down. Figures.

He had a piece of paper passed in front of him.

'he's just a bit cold, is all. trust me'

Harry wrote dark with lead back to him.

'he laughed'

Then zayn was all like 'that's an act tho'

'no its not, but its pretty cruel if it is'

'you helped him saturday, didn't you? he was being real on saturday'

'i basically was babysitting him and he was drunk and he wasn't being real. if that's his real, ten i hate both sires of him.'

'hey. don't say that'

'don't say what?'

'dude idk u but don't say you hate him you don't know him.'

'know him enough.'

'okay im done with this believe what you want to fucking believe. i won't stop you'

'cool. what i wanted'

 At the end of the period, Zayn still handed him his phone number with an ote that read: 'we'll talk soon, you little stubborn fucker aha xx :)'

 

-*-

 

School day was over too quickly. But that was okay with Harry. The sun was bright but the air was so cold and Harry has started to really hate these weather changes. He was on his way home when he felt his stomach churn. Something was going to happen.

When he got home, he knew it.

He knew it because Louis was in the dining room, lightly circling the edge of a mug. He's drinking out of Harry's mug.

Before he said anything he looked over to see Gemma. She was shooting daggers at him. As if she could intimidate him.

he sat down silently and opened his Maths book.

"Chapter two. Let's go."

 

-*-

 

It was now Thursday. All Harry's been doing is sleeping and drinking warm water. Not much else to do, anyway. Louis' been out of Harry's sight other than the daily sessions after school. Harry would like to keep it that way. But he feels something. He feels something flicker, flicker with a flame, and it'll burn bright soon.

Something's gonna happen and its gonna burn more than Harry's skin.

 


	7. the end of all (finale)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i never posted this ! get off my back

At the end of the session on Friday, Gemma was in the bathroom and Harry was staring down at the table. "You're pretty weak, you know, when you fall and everything. You'd be my sister, basically, you sounded like it."

Harry didn't look up. he tried to not react and succeeded. But his heart was melting. "Awwh, little Harry's not gonna reply?" Louis said. But his voice was weak. "Why should I?" Harry sneered, looking up with squinted eyes and his hands in fists. "You're just rude."

"So?" Louis laughed. "I don't talk to burnouts, let alone cunts. You're just a great combo of 'em." Louis shot up. "What'd you say, pussy?" Harry stood up. "Not a pussy if I spoke my mind, and I did. You're welc-"

"Oh, you little.." Louis muttered, then stopped, face red, then started again, "Don't you dare say that about me. I may be every bloody thing in the world but I'm not a burnout." "You make the word's meaning, Lou!"

Harry exclaimed because the bathroom was all the way in the basement and that was a long way down, so Gem heard nothing, "You're nothing." Louis bit his lip so hard it started bleeding down his chin. "You don't know me, Styles. You're just some stupid geek that's never had anything ever happen to him. I've lived."

"Out of what, you've lived out of a bong? That it?" Harry couldn't help but laugh. This was ridiculous. "You know what, Styles-" "What? What, Louis? Gonna insult me? Gonna insult your weekend chauffeur?" Harry yelled.

the silence hurt worse than Louis' words. "You didn't have to take me anywhere Saturday. it wasn't set in stone." Louis' voice changed.

It was as rough as stone. Harry almost cut himself on it. "I wasn't gonna leave you, Louis. I'm not like that." Harry was shaking his head, slowly and shamefully. "You should've." Harry didn't reply to that. He just shut himself up. "I'm not a burnout." Louis eventually whispered.

It was so soft and subtle that it almost scared Harry to death. He had to look up to make sure all of Louis was still there, and not just some shadow, not just some lost ghost. "And I've lived. I've gone through so much sit, sometimes." "I know." Harry almost threw up.

"What do you mean, you know?" Harry said, tense again. Louis shook his head. "You do know I talk o Gem, though? That know about your mum and step-dad?" Louis had a shine in his eyes. It kinda confused Harry.

"Why have you been so rude to me." Harry suddenly said. His voice had so much emotion he didn't even know was possible. "I put on a good act." Louis said, and it seemed like everyone was just one broken record, kept saying that same exact thing.

Just Gemma and 'Liam' and Zayn and everyone. Harry was suddenly so tired. Albeit, confused, but so damn tired. "Louis." Harry said. "Harry." Louis said. "Wow." Gemma said. She walked in and they were still kissing. Louis doesn't know how it happened, and Harry doesn't know or want to know how the hell it happened.

Lou tasted like blood and regret and mint and decaffeinated coffee and Friday afternoons. Harry was pretty sure he tasted like tears. 'wow' is what Gemma said, and it was pretty wow. They'd both tell you that this story is not so happy or that they'd stay together forever. But they both have been talking, for the last little while, and they know they both lived.

They've lived pretty shitty. And Gemma's still kinda shocked, because this story literally started with a bad-ass burnout named Louis and a geek named Harry, who recently hasn't burned since he felt the fire within Louis. But yeah, Louis thinks it won't last and Harry's still confused.

And Niall doesn't know what the fuck is going on. But Louis' been rude cause he knew this would happen. This little whirlwind of emotions and all. And Harry didn't know, but Louis' trying his hardest to explain everything in the world to that boy.

They got married when Harry was 20 and Louis was 22. Barb planned it all (she came up to Harry one day in their senior year and just hugged him for like literally ten minutes, basically squeezing the life out of him; Niall's still hesitant to befriend her again, but t'll happen. Harry knows it.)

Nick went with Gemma and Stan's not as much an asshole now,

And somehow Liam and Zayn had been dating all along? Okay then? That's the fucking end. Not really to them, but to you it is.


End file.
